


Follow You Into the Dark

by hardboiledbaby



Category: Battlestar Galactica (1978)
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-31
Updated: 2010-03-31
Packaged: 2017-10-08 13:19:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/76047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hardboiledbaby/pseuds/hardboiledbaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Starbuck's interpretation of duty is somewhat different from Apollo's. Based on the ep <i>Lost Planet of the Gods.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Follow You Into the Dark

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Quoshara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Quoshara/gifts).



> The flyboys aren't even from this solar system, so, not mine, no money, obviously.
> 
> Beta'd by my FE, Equusentric, but she can't help it if the muse insists on messing it up.

_"Starbuck, are you jealous?"_

_"Yeah, I guess in a way, I am. Don't tell anyone else, huh?"_

_"I think what you're trying to say is pretty nice. We've had a lot of good times."_

  
* * * * * * *

  


Deep patrols aren't exactly tops on anybody's list of fun things to do. Anyone who thinks being a Colonial Warrior is a glamorous job should try it sometime, they'd change their mind in a big hurry. Advance scoutings, while necessary, are just long, boring stints of being cramped up in a viper.

Except when they aren't, of course. Boring, I mean. Come to think of it, I guess I much prefer the monotony of a Cylon-free patrol, given the alternative.

Starbuck sure was in a hurry to get going on this one. Of course, that was mostly Athena's fault. As Father said, he does have a well-defined sense of what lies in waiting. Usually, he treats patrol duty as a necessary evil—with the emphasis on "evil."

Sometimes, I wonder about him. He wants everyone to think he breezes through life without a care, that "look out for Number One, don't volunteer, don't stick your neck out," is his credo. The truth is, behind all his nonchalance, he's one of the fleet's finest and bravest Warriors, a crack pilot, and a man I'm proud to call my best friend.

This patrol—I guess it _is_ special, in a way. At least, Starbuck seems to think so, although I don't exactly see why my getting married is going to change things between us. After all, we'll still be working together, flying missions, same as always. I'll just... have a wife. A family. But he and I, we have a special connection, and I've known it for yahrens, since our time together at the Academy. No one knows me the way he does. I don't intend to lose that, simply because Serina and Boxey are part of my life now.

He can't really be jealous. He knows what he means to me. He must.

  
* * * * * * *

  


_"Starbuck, I'm not dying."_

_"No, not _exactly_."_

_"I've thought a lot about what I'm doing, and I've never been happier about anything in my whole life."_

  
* * * * * * *

  


He really does seem to be happy. Sagan knows, he deserves to be. I wish I could be sure it's for the right reasons. But I saw how Adama looked at Serina, and I wonder....

Because marrying Serina, giving Boxey a father, and pleasing Adama—being able to do all that in one fell swoop would, in fact, _be_ Apollo's idea of happiness. He wouldn't even stop to question whether or not it was something he actually wanted for himself. It would certainly fulfill his self-appointed duty to be responsible for the welfare and well-being of everyone around him.

_Almost_ everyone.

No, that's not fair. It's not his fault; it would simply never occur to him to worry about me in that way.

I know he cares about me. He calls me his best friend, and he doesn't say that lightly. He really means it.

I just wish he'd mean it... more.

  
* * * * * * *

  


_"I'd better see how far we can go without getting lost. Maybe I can edge out a little further and see what's on the other side of this void."_

_"Once out there, you may not find your way back. Let me do it. You've got someone waiting for you back—Apollo!"_

  
* * * * * * *

  


Damn him, anyway. If Starbuck thinks I'm going to hold back and let him take all the risks from now on, simply because... well, if that's what he thinks, he's crazier than I thought he was.

Then again, we used to face these risks together. He's always been the one at my side; my wingman, protecting my flank, in or out of the viper. He's never failed me. I don't know what I would do if he wasn't there.

  
* * * * * * *

  


_"Apollo, look, don't get too far from me, I'm barely holding a fix on the way back as it is. Apollo!"_

_"Probe Two, Starbuck, can you read me?... Pr... thi.... Sta—"_

  
* * * * * * *

  


Frak.

My sensors are useless and all I hear is static. Damn it, what have you gotten yourself into, Apollo?

If he thinks I'm going to let this void take him from me, he's crazy.

  
* * * * * * *

  


_"Okay Captain, I'm about to disobey orders, so if you want to stop me, I'll give you one millicenton. Then, I'm going to barrel ahead at full turbo, firing my lasers. I'll either find you, or we'll both be lost."_

  
* * * * * * *

  


Gods, it's dark in here. If it wasn't for the backlight on the instrument panel, I wouldn't even be able to see my hand in front of my face. Not that the instruments are doing me any good, right now. I've lost my bearings, and there's nothing, absolutely nothing, to get a fix on. I feel like I've been swallowed alive by Hell.

Maybe I have. Maybe I'm already dead, and I just don't realize it. How would I even know the difference?

This is stupid. I have to stop thinking like this. I'm _not_ dead. And as long as I'm not dead, I have a chance of getting out of—

_Starbuck._

Starbuck's going to come after me. That stupid, stubborn son of a daggit is going to chase after me and get swallowed up as well. Frak...

No. No, he won't. He'd better not. Duty first—he knows his priority is to the fleet. All those ships, all those lives—he swore an oath to protect them. He'll follow procedure and go back to warn the _Galactica_. He has to.

Please.

  
* * * * * * *

  


_"Probe One, this is Probe Two, heading your way."_

_"Starbuck?"_

"I'm on my way."

  
* * * * * * *

  


He sounds surprised. Dumb ass.

He knows I'd die for him, but he hasn't figured out yet that I live for him, too. I wonder if he ever will.

But that doesn't matter. All that matters is that Apollo's alive. I'll take him back to the _Galactica_ and deliver him, safe and whole, to his betrothed. I'll stand with him when he says the Words. I'll toast the happy couple with the finest ambrosia I can find, and I'll smile while I do it. Because he's alive.

  
* * * * * * *

  


_"You owe me a fumarillo. Let's go home, buddy."_


End file.
